


A Farewell Among The Crossroads

by IllogicalLogician



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Assassin's Creed - Freeform, Assassin's Creed Revelations, Post-Game, Spoilers, Yusuf Tazim - Freeform, ezio auditore - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllogicalLogician/pseuds/IllogicalLogician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ezio's journey to Masayaf to open Altair's library, he comes back to Constantinople to mourn Yusuf's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Farewell Among The Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first completed Assassin's Creed fic. It's pretty short, but I had the inspiration to write something on what I think Ezio's reaction would be to Yusuf's death in AC: Revelations. I felt that in the game, it was explored so little, and that made me incredibly sad because I absolutely adored Yusuf.
> 
> I also make mention of a few events, like the part with the stuffed animal and Yusuf defending an innocent citizen from the Byzantines, and that's purely artistic license. They're just things that I feel Yusuf would do/ideas I have for other stories.

Ezio's legs dangled over the edge of the Galata tower, the summer's afternoon breeze tugging at his clothing. With the armor and weapons removed, they felt so light, and he so exposed. He cast his eyes to the horizon, the sun's dying light painting the sky a warm amber and orange. The warm embrace of Constantinople brought contentedness, but Ezio couldn't help but feel empty, in some part of his soul. The part that never came to light, the part he'd always suppressed because there was no time to grieve. Ezio sighed, looking out over the city. _Yusuf's city_ ; he thought somberly. The very streets reminisced of him. The people, the places, the ensembles that played in the streets. The ziplines and the skyscraping towers of the marvelous city emanated Yusuf's customs. Were it not for the hookblade, Ezio's travels among the city would be confined to the lowest rooftops and the ground below.

His wrist ached where his bracer would have been. His repentance from the life of an Assassin was liberating, however he felt a pang of guilt for returning to Yusuf's city devoid of what the Master Assassin had given the Mentor; devoid of the title that defined them both so infallibly.

Even the tower on top of which he sat held fond but now aching memories. Memories of his first day in Constantinople, of Yusuf's challenge to race him to the top of the tower. Many times after that, they had indulged in the same competition. Yusuf would make jests at astonishment that such an old man could best him, _Yusuf Tazim_ in such a trial, no matter how often or seldom. Ezio would retort with his most cunning wit, through his own breathlessness. They would both make it to the top of the tower, gasping and laughing with each other as if they were both adolescents again.

Ezio stood, and held his breath as grief constricted his heart. Even after a year, after a peaceful time with Sofia away from Assassins and Templars and death and and danger, coming back to the city that heralded the beginning of an end and the sorrow that came from Yusuf's memory tore at him. Ezio walked slowly to the beam that extended past the rim of the tower. The sun was setting, and he had to be out of Istanbul by dawn, back to Sofia so they could travel back to Roma. Then after Roma, to Firenze, finally settling down and starting a family. Ezio smiled as he thought of home, of some sort of domesticity. He looked to the city before him and sobered. This place, amongst many others had also been considered home to him.

Placing his feet gently on the creaking beam, Ezio crouched, readying himself for his leap. Even that action rang of Yusuf. Ezio's first Leap of Faith in the city was here, following his newly made friend as they descended into human territory once more, no longer in the fields of the sky. Ezio took another breath, and leaped, swearing he could hear Yusuf's warm, radiant laughter within the wind that howled past his ears. Ezio hit the cart below, the hay that filled it cushioning his impact. After listening for any suspicious onlookers, Ezio jumped from the pile of hay to his feet, brushing off that which clung to his clothing as he made his way to the cemetery.

The place where Yusuf was buried was only a few city streets away from the Assassin HQ. Ezio dipped his head as he made his way through the ever persistent crowds. It was dangerous for him even to be there; but his friend deserved to be mourned. Yusuf would have risked life and limb to say a final goodbye to a fellow assassin, brother or sister.

_He would have risked life and limb to say hello to someone he'd never met before._ Ezio smiled sadly. Such was the heart of the beloved Master Assassin. Ezio stopped as he came to the grass that marked where the street ended and the cemetery began. He felt so weak, so helpless, as if he were being judged for some regrettable action. Ezio took a breath and continued forward. The yard was empty, though rather than eerie it felt humbled. It felt as if Ezio's friend-- his brother was there, to welcome him back to his city. Welcoming the former Mentor with outstretched arms and a radiant smile that was infectious even in the most foul of moods.

Ezio's grief lightened, remembering the pure, untainted joy that Yusuf was so capable of. Ezio cursed himself for it. He scolded Yusuf for being so cheerful when he was finally allowing himself to mourn. Yusuf would laugh at Ezio's sulking, saying that his life was one of many, and that his death was no great tragedy. Ezio managed a smirk, he and his friend were so similar.

The headstone was simple, a bland looking stone, nearly exactly like all of the others. The only difference was that it was taller, and it stood above the rest. In the center, as if watching over all of the souls that rest there. The souls of the city, those of the Assassins. Even in death, Yusuf was there to watchfully protect any and everyone he loved. Ezio could at least feel content in the fact that Yusuf always had, and was always going to be their guardian.

Ezio was shocked as he walked further into the cemetery. There was an eagle perched atop Yusuf's headstone. As Ezio approached, it lingered for a moment, before taking flight. Ezio told himself it was indeed Yusuf's spirit, greeting him and showing that he was not truly gone. Ezio internally laughed at himself for the thought. He knelt down before the headstone, bringing his fist up and across his chest.

The eagle made Ezio ponder if there was some sort of life after death, or if a departed spirit was reincarnated into something else, its true soul form. If that was true, where did a spirit go after that? Was that state infinite? Ezio hoped that wherever Yusuf was, whether it be soaring above the clouds as an eagle, or merely integrated into the soil of Constantinople as part of the city he was so proud of, that he was at peace.

“Here we are, no longer parted at last.” Ezio mumbled in nearly incoherent Italian. His lack of attention to his words made him think of Yusuf's utterly _awful_ attempts in the dialect. Living in the “Crossroads of the World” seemed to have no effect on the linguistic ability of the Master Assassin. Ezio smirked again, and then ran an anger fueled hand through his hair. He scowled. Every emotion he'd ever felt was flaring inside of him. As he let his barriers down they became even harder to control.

“Forgive me, brother.” The words felt so foreign on his tongue. It had been so long since he'd repeated the plea. Memories of Firenze, when the shock of his father and brother's deaths was still so raw came back. With them, they brought uncontrollable waves of grief, striking Ezio with all of their force. Nothing this strong had tormented him since he was still just a boy. Now, revenge didn't numb his senses to the pain, the spirit in him to fight was gone. Ezio was just so _tired_. Tired of death, of violence and conflict and losing those closest to him. The Assassins were cursed with such a burden. Ezio accepted it. Even that realization did not stop the tears that slowly, then thickly came down his cheeks. He did not try to stop them, nor the sobs that shook his frame. They were not loud, but they were deep, emotional. He put his face in his hands. It had been too long since Ezio had let himself _feel_ like this. Untamed, free. Many would consider such demeanor to be childish, however at that moment, Ezio had no regret for such a display. Ezio waited for his ragged breath to calm before he faced the headstone again. Ezio looked up, begrudgingly wiping his running nose on his sleeve and sniffling.

“I suppose I never did thank you, for protecting Sofia such as you did. She's safe now, thanks to you.” Ezio felt a pang of guilt as he thought of how his request had ultimately gotten Yusuf killed. _The Templars killed Yusuf;_ Ezio convinced himself. Ezio felt an undying guilt, that seemed only to grow with age, with each of his failures. However, such things that were in the past could not be changed. It was only a waste of time to dwell and regret. Time, Ezio had come to find was very short.

“For all that you did, I never truly thanked you. I would not be standing here, maybe half of Istanbul would not be standing if it weren't for your guidance. I am honored to call you my brother. If not by blood--” Ezio's heart twinged, “then by creed.” Ezio rubbed a hand over his face, trying to blink past even more relentless tears. How his heart _ached_ for Yusuf's presence. So he could tell Yusuf in person, to the warm and living soul rather than a cold stone. “I am sorry... I was not fast enough. I could not provide the aid you would have so readily given to me, to anyone.” Ezio recalled the time Yusuf had come back to the Galata Headquarters, beaten and cut so that he could hardly stand; all for the sake of a foreign stranger being harassed by the Byzantine guards. It had taken Yusuf nearly two weeks to get back on his feet. Ezio grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You were always so... kind, understanding, yet firm as though you had walked the earth in everyone's shoes; and yet the weight of the world never drove you to bitterness. Truly incredible.” Ezio opened his eyes. “If a quarter of the people in the world were as half as moral as you... were, then this war would be over.” He sighed, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He straightened his back a little.

“I... I have always been a sentimental man, though I blame part of that on Leonardo...” Ezio paused. Yusuf had so wanted to meet Leonardo one day, and Ezio had assured it. Yet another something Ezio had promised and never provided. Ezio looked around to all of the graveyard, each stone marking a grave ringing painfully in his chest. How many others had died under his mentor-ship in Yusuf's city?

“I regret you never got to meet him. You two would have been the best of friends; inseparable, for sure.” Ezio smiled sadly as his eyes were wet yet again. “Sentimentality... you would have mocked me for it, claiming that life is too short for such... attachment.” A chuckle. “But this, I felt should be left in its rightful home. “ Ezio pulled a stuffed animal from his robes; the very one Yusuf had given him when he'd fallen ill. It was worn at the seams, and some of the stitches were frayed, but it still had too little of the wear and tear that time brought. Ezio sniffed.

“Dela, I finally named it. After your truly remarkable Italian upon our first encounter.”

_“Ezio Auditore de, la la la.”_ Yusuf had said. Ezio clutched Dela in his hands, lovingly rubbing the fabric with his thumbs.

“It has brought me many nights of peace through restless nightmares. May it help you rest, as well.” Ezio carefully placed Dela against the headstone. He ran his fingers over the surface. His final farewell to his friend, who was as much his mentor as Ezio was to the Ottoman Assassins. Ezio stood, his fingers not leaving the stone until he turned away.

“Rest well, fratello mio.”


End file.
